Tuesday, January 28, 2014

"What Lies Behind" Sequel to Leukemia, My Husband,and Me:A Turbulent Triangle

Preview Excerpt

WHAT LIES BEHIND
A sequel to
Leukemia, My Husband and Me: A Turbulent Triangle
by
JC Cerrigone

 
Cerrigone/What Lies Behind/page iii

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my family and friends. The people who came forward and showered me with love, support, and encouragement. No matter how difficult things became, they remained firm in their position and continued to offer me their loyalty and devotion. I thank you all. I’m forever indebted. Dealing with my husband’s catastrophic illness was one of the most excruciating times in my life, but what I dealt with after Mike’s death far surpasses any pain I’ve ever experienced.






Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life.
Proverbs 13:12


To learn more about Mike’s story, visit
http://www.mikestreeoflife.com

Disclaimer

This is a work of creative nonfiction. The events are portrayed to the best of Justine’s memory. While all the stories in this book are true, some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved.
This story is not an attack. It was written with the intention that it will hopefully be used as a tool in preventing others from having to encounter what I did. I am not trained in any specific areas of psychology obereavement counseling. The stories in this book are the experiences I had in dealing with individuals and their reactive behavior following my husband’s death.
I want to thank JK Publications for taking on these two books. Nonfiction is an entirely different market and not always accessible to every author. I thank you for this opportunity. It’s a privilege that I don’t take lightly.

 
Cerrigone/What Lies Behind/page 48


Chapter One
Mike Has Left The Building

“Whose phone was that?” my mother asked.
I think it was Justine’s iPad,” my sister, Cecily, said as she rose from the table and began to clear.
Mike had been gone for fifteen hours. I was counting them already. Every hour that passed nudged me in the gut with the brutal reminder that he was not coming back, not ever. His shoes were still in the corner of the kitchen, right where he’d left them. I couldn’t touch them, wanting to preserve anything he’d come into contact with, leaving things just as he had.
My friend Fran, whom I’d met working through the homemaker agency, had just served an outrageously delicious eggplant parmesan. I ate very little. My stomach was nailed down tight, only able to accommodate small amounts of food.
I reached for my iPad to check the incoming email. I had sent out a universal email as well as a text providing the many members of Mike’s family with all the service details. As I scrolled through, I saw that the email had come from Lyn, Mike’s oldest sister.
I had called Jan first after I’d found Mike that morning at 5:18 a.m. She’d been the one to tell the rest of the family. My family, who lives hours away, had gotten to my house as soon as they could, arriving by noon.
It was a muggy August evening. That morning I’d stood in the driveway, the rain drizzling on my head as I watched the gray hearse pull out of the driveway, my husband housed in the back.
Kevin, Mike’s best friend, arrived by 6 a.m., staying with me until the entire coroner’s investigation had been completed, a procedure that took six hours.
My mind was a discombobulated mess, filled with visual snippets, flashbacks of a day I’d never be able to forget. I tried to concentrate on the email, but had to begin reading it again. When my eyes came across the four words shut the family out,” my dinner lurched into my throat. As I continued to read Lyn’s email I felt my face go slack with shock.
We understand that you lost a husband, but we’ve lost a brother and a mother has lost a son. You have shut the family out. Why haven’t you been to see my mother?
I pushed the tablet away and got up.
“What’s wrong?” my mother asked, setting the dirty serving dish in the sink.
“Read the email. I walked outside. I needed air. I could hear the hushed voices of my mother and sister drifting through the kitchen. My friend Fran had taken over the task of clearing the table. The patio door opened behind me. I pinched my eyes closed,exhausted from crying throughout the entire day.
“I feel that email is inappropriate,” my mother said softly. “I think you need to call.”
“I plan on going to see Emma tomorrow. Haven’t I had enough to deal with today? Why hasn’t anyone been to see me?” I yelled. Lyn should be coming down here to see me!” I jammed my finger into my chest with every syllable of my words. The tears I’d tried to hold back spilled. I couldn’t believe Lyn. I’d just found my husband dead in my living room a mere fifteen hours ago, and I’m supposed to run and see her mother!
My sister and I spent the morning at the funeral home signing papers and thenhad gone to the firehouse, making all the plans for the luncheon afterwards. Once homeI’d had to call Social Security and the pension office. Did my sister-in-law not know all the business that had to be taken care of when one dies? Today was only the beginning. It would go on for months. I felt my mother’s touch on my shoulder.
“Give her call. Tell her what’s been going onand that we’re going to see her mother tomorrow morning. Maybe if you verbally share the details, it’ll smooth things over.
I went back inside to get my cell phone. After punching in her number, Neil, Lyn’s husband, answered. He proceeded to tell me that Lyn had left the house and didn’t have her phone. I told him I’d just received the email and that Lyn should call. I set the phone on the counter and glanced back at my sister standing in the threshold, her face creased with confusion.
“Is she there?” Cecily asked.
“She went out. It just so happens that she left her phone behind,” I said.
“That’s complete bullshit!” Fran shouted, shaking her head. “Here it comes.Here’s where it’s gonna get all fucked up. I’m sorry, Justine,” she raised a handbut I’ve got a real shitty feeling right now, one that needs to be nursed with a glass of wine.
If I had had any type of insight into the sequence of events that would unfold during the next few weeks, I would’ve ended it all, gladly joining my husband in whatever peaceful location he was in. From this point on, until the trees began to shed their leaves, I would be chained and shackled, dragged through hell by a group of people who were emotionally handicapped and corroded with selfishness.
They say when things like this happen, you learn the truth about people. What I’m about to unveil forced me to face a truth that I never could’ve imagined, and I have a very good imagination, one that has served me well. My usual craft of writing is fiction romance. I’ve published fourteen novellas through three eBook companies. This is my second memoir.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Snippet of the Day returns for 2014!

Snippet of the Day- Returns for 2014
The first few weeks with Levi and Alec were a relief. Respite came in the form of routine and a relaxed environment where three people moved through life and were congenial and respectful toward one another, something Fern wasn’t used to, but was eating up as if she thought it would melt and disappear like a delicious ice cream.
Levi worked as a headhunter and was usually cooped up in his office, answering phone calls and consulting his clients on what jobs were available and would align with their skills and credentials. Fern had run a few errands for him, delivering resumes to his clients. Driving Levi’s Audi was a rare treat she’d surely never tire of.
Alec’s schedule often flipped-flopped between the lunch and dinner hours.
As for their relationship, it wasn’t something they paraded in front of Fern. Aside from hearing them engage in what Fern knew was some type of physical contact, all she’d witnessed outside the bedroom was their close contact in the kitchen one particular morning.
She’d come in for coffee and seen their faces very close together, their eyes gleaming into one another. They’d stepped apart slightly, but not anything jarring or dramatic to insinuate that she’d caught them doing anything wrong.
It was laundry day that had Fern’s thoughts wandering, determined to diagnose them both.
“Can you fit these in?” Alec asked, handing her his black vest and trousers that he wore to work.
“Sure,” Fern told him, taking the rumpled pile of clothing. She turned and lifted the lid of the machine, dropping his uniform into the wash cycle. She turned and met the gaze that she felt burning through her back.
The basement was dark and slightly dank-smelling. Aside from a beat-up old sofa and a set of weights, it was unfinished and mainly used to do the laundry and to store extra food in a freezer that sat in the corner. Alec’s light voice drifted through the air, as calm and controlled as an instructional hypnosis recording.
“How’s everything going so far?” Alex jammed his hands into the pockets of his weathered jeans. His lime-green Converse high- tops glowed in the murky light. 
“Fine, um. Are things okay? Am I doing all that should be done?” Fern asked, stepping back. Her skin felt singed with a heat that she hadn’t felt since a grammar school crush.
“We’re very pleased. Oh, I found these on the stairs. You must’ve dropped them on your way down,” Alec said. He pulled out a ball of purple, silky fabric.
“Oh God,” Fern mumbled. She shook her head, avoiding the amusement that sparked in his eyes. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.
“No problem,” Alec said, his tone hushed. He shrugged. “We don’t wilt around here at the sight of a woman’s undies.”
Fern spun around, lifting the lid of the washer, wanting to dive in and join the clothes that were sloshing and foamed with suds. Levi had told her that she could wash her “girls” with their clothing, wanting to conserve on hot water. Alec’s voice forced her to reluctantly meet his steady gaze.
“You busy tonight?” he asked. Alec tipped his head, his gaze steady. Strands of hair fell over his brow like tasseled fringe.
“Ah, no...” Fern’s mind whirled, never expecting what came next.
“Levi and I would like to take you out tonight for some dancing, you know, to celebrate having you here, a sort of welcome to the family, as Levi put it."  Before she could answer he spoke again, his words running together. “You up for it?” Alec asked, grinning. He jerked his head, attempting to move the hair out of his eyes. 
http://www.amazon.com/Hotter-Horizons-JC-Szot-ebook/dp/B00EZ7X2HC/ref=la_B008BTX0W2_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1390473167&sr=1-9

Friday, January 17, 2014

From Fiction to Writing the Real Deal

2  
What Lies Behind/JC Cerrigone

                                           What Lies Behind
                                 By JC Cerrigone
               A sequel toLeukemia, My Husband and Me: A Turbulent Triangle

Dedication:
I dedicate this book to my family and friends. The people who came forward and showered me with love, support and encouragement. No matter how difficult things became, they remained firm in their position and continued to offer me their loyalty and devotion. I thank you all. I’m forever indebted. Dealing with my husband’s catastrophic illness was one of the most excruciating times in my life, but what I dealt with after Mike’s death far surpasses any pain I’ve ever experienced.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life
Proverbs 13:12
To learn more about Mike’s story visit  
http://www.mikestreeoflife.com

Disclaimer:
This is a work of creative nonfiction. The events are portrayed to the best of Justine’s memory. While all the stories in this book are true, some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved. This story is not an attack. I wrote it with the intension that it will hopefully be used as a tool, in preventing others from having to encounter what I did.  I am not trained in any specific areas of Psychology, or Bereavement counseling. The stories in this book are the experiences I had in dealing with individuals and their reactive behavior following my husband’s death.  
I want to thank JK Publications for taking on these two books. Nonfiction is an entirely different market and not always accessible to every author. I thank you for this opportunity. It’s a privilege that I don’t take lightly.


                                               Chapter One
                                      Mike Has Left the Building
          “Whose phone was that?” My mother asked.
I think it was Justine’s I pad,” my sister, Cecily said as she rose from the table and began to clear.
    Mike had been gone for fifteen hours. I was counting them already.  Every hour that passed nudged me in the gut with the brutal reminder that he was not coming back, not ever. His shoes were still in the corner of the kitchen, right where he’d left them. I couldn’t touch them, wanting to preserve anything he’d come into contact with, leaving things just as he had.
My friend, Fran, who I’d met working through the homemaker agency had just served an outrageously, delicious eggplant parmesan.  I ate very little. My stomach was nailed down tight, only able to accommodate small amounts of food.
I reached for my I pad to check the incoming email.  I had sent out a universal email as well as a text providing the many members of Mike’s family with all the service details.As I scrolled through I saw that the email had come from Lyn, Mike’s oldest sister.
I had called Jan first after I’d found Mike that morning at 5:18 a.m. She’d been the one to tell the rest of the family. My family, whom lives hours away, had gotten to my houseas soon as they could, arriving by noon.
It was a muggy, August evening.  That morning I’d stood in the driveway, the rain drizzling on my head as I watched the gray hearse pull out of driveway, my husband housed in the back.  
Kevin, Mike’s best friend arrived by 6:00 a.m., staying with me until the entire coroner’s investigation had been completed, a procedure that took six hours.
My mind was a discombobulated mess, filled with visual snippets, flashbacks of a day I’d never be able to forget.  I tried to concentrate on the email, but had to begin reading it again. When my eyes came across the four words- shut the family out my dinner lurched into my throat. As I continued to read Lyn’s email I felt my face go slack with shock.
We understand that you lost a husband, but we’ve lost a brother and a mother has lost a son.  You have shut the family out. Why haven’t you been to see my mother?
I pushed the tablet away and got up.  
“What’s wrong?” My mother asked, setting the dirty serving dish in the sink.
“Read the email,” I walked outside. I needed air.  I could hear the hushed voices of my mother and sister drifting through the kitchen. My friend, Fran had taken over the task of clearing the table. The patio door opened behind me.  I pinched my eyes closed,exhausted from crying throughout the entire day.
“I feel that email is inappropriate,” my mother said softly. “I think you need to call.”
“I plan on going to see Emma tomorrow.  Haven’t I had enough to deal with today? Why hasn’t anyone been to see me?” I yelled. Lyn should be coming down here to see me!”I jammed my finger into my chest with every syllable of my words.  The tears I’d tried to hold back spilled.  I couldn’t believe Lyn.  I’d just found my husband dead in my living room a mere fifteen hours ago, and I’m supposed to run and see her mother!
My sister and I spent the morning at the funeral home signing papers and then had gone to the firehouse, making all the plans for the luncheon afterwards.  Once home I’d had to call Social Security and the pension office.  Did my sister-in-law not know all the business that had to be taken care of when one dies?  Today was only the beginning. It would go on for months. I felt my mother’s touch on my shoulder.
“Give her call.  Tell her what’s been going onand that we’re going to see her mothertomorrow morning. Maybe if you verbally share the details it’ll smooth things over.
I went back inside to get my cell phone.  After punching in her number Neil, Lyn’s husband answered.  He proceeded to tell me that Lyn had left the house and didn’t have her phone.  I told him I’d just received the email and that Lyn should call. I set the phone on the counter and glanced back at my sister standing in the threshold, her face creased with confusion.
“Is she there?” Cecily asked.
“She went out. It just so happens that she left her phone behind,” I said.
“That’s complete bullshit!” Fran shouted, shaking her head.  “Here it comes.  Here’s where it’s gonna get all fucked up.  I’m sorry Justine”- she raised a hand-“but I’ve got a real shitty feeling right now, one that needs to be nursed with a glass of wine.
If I had had any type of insight to the sequence of events that would unfold during the next few weeks I would’ve ended it all, gladly joining my husband in whatever peacefullocation he was in. From this point on until the trees began to shed their leaves I would be chained and shackled, drug through hell by a group of people who were emotionally handicapped, and corroded with selfishness.
They say when things like this happen you learn the truth about people.  What I’m aboutto unveil forced me to face a truth that I never could’ve imagined, and I have a very good imagination, one that has served me well.  My usual craft of writing is fiction romance. I’ve published fourteen novellas through three eBook companies. This is my second memoir.


Friday, January 10, 2014

Next Upcoming Release

"All In" has been accepted by Evernight Publications- release date to follow.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

What Lies Behind-

                                           What Lies Behind
                                             By JC Cerrigone
               A sequel toLeukemia, My Husband and Me: A Turbulent Triangle

Dedication:
I dedicate this book to my family and friends. The people who came forward and showered me with love, support and encouragement, no matter how difficult things became, they remained firm in their position and continued to offer me their loyalty and devotion. I thank you all. I’m forever indebted. Dealing with my husband’s catastrophic illness was one of the most excruciating times in my life, but what I dealt with after Mike’s death far surpasses any pain I’ve ever experienced.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life
Proverbs 13:12
To learn more about Mike’s story visit  
http://www.mikestreeoflife.com

Disclaimer:
This is a work of creative nonfiction. The events are portrayed to the best of Justine’s memory. While all the stories in this book are true, some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved. This story is not an attack. I wrote it with the intension that it will hopefully be used as a tool, in preventing others from having to encounter what I did.  I am not trained in any specific areas of Psychology, or Bereavement counseling. The stories in this book are the experiences I had in dealing with individuals and their behavior following my husband’s death.  
I want to thank JK Publications for taking on these two books. Nonfiction is an entirely different market and not always accessible to every author. I thank you for this opportunity. It’s a privilege that I don’t take lightly.


                                               Chapter One
                                      Mike Has Left the Building
          “Whose phone was that?” My mother asked.
I think it was Justine’s I pad,” my sister, Cecily said as she rose from the table and began to clear.
    Mike had been gone for fifteen hours. I was counting them already.  Every hour that passed nudged me in the gut with the brutal reminder that he was not coming back, not ever. His shoes were still in the corner of the kitchen, right where he’d left them. I couldn’t touch them, wanting to preserve anything he’d come into contact with, leaving things just as he had.
My friend, Fran, who I’d met working through the homemaker agency had just served an outrageously, delicious eggplant parmesan.  I ate very little. My stomach was nailed down tight, only able to accommodate small amounts of food.
I reached for my I pad to check the incoming email.  I had sent out a universal email as well as a text providing the many members of Mike’s family with all the service details.As I scrolled through I saw that the email had come from Lyn, Mike’s oldest sister.
I had called Jan first after I’d found Mike that morning at 5:18 a.m. She’d been the one to tell the rest of the family. My family, whom lives hours away, had gotten to my houseas soon as they could, arriving by noon.
It was a muggy, August evening.  That morning I’d stood in the driveway, the rain drizzling on my head as I watched the gray hearse pull out of driveway, my husband housed in the back.  
Kevin, Mike’s best friend arrived by 6:00 a.m., staying with me until the entire coroner’s investigation had been completed, a procedure that took six hours.
My mind was a discombobulated mess, filled with visual snippets, flashbacks of a day I’d never be able to forget.  I tried to concentrate on the email, but had to begin reading it again. When my eyes came across the four words- shut the family out my dinner lurched into my throat. As I continued to read Lyn’s email I felt my face go slack with shock.
We understand that you lost a husband, but we’ve lost a brother and a mother has lost a son.  You have shut the family out. Why haven’t you been to see my mother?
I pushed the tablet away and got up.  
“What’s wrong?” My mother asked, setting the dirty serving dish in the sink.
“Read the email,” I walked outside. I needed air.  I could hear the hushed voices of my mother and sister drifting through the kitchen. My friend, Fran had taken over the task of clearing the table. The patio door opened behind me.  I pinched my eyes closed,exhausted from crying throughout the entire day.
“I feel that email is inappropriate,” my mother said softly. “I think you need to call.”
“I plan on going to see Emma tomorrow.  Haven’t I had enough to deal with today? Why hasn’t anyone been to see me?” I yelled. Lyn should be coming down here to see me!”I jammed my finger into my own chest.  The tears I’d tried to hold back spilled.  I couldn’t believe Lyn.  I’d just found my husband dead in my living room a mere fifteen hours ago, and I’m supposed to run and see her mother!
My sister and I spent the morning at the funeral home signing papers and then had gone to the fire hall, making all the plans for the luncheon afterwards.  Once home I’d had to call Social Security and the pension office.  Did my sister-in-law not know all the business that had to be taken care of when one dies?  Today was only the beginning. It would go on for months. I felt my mother’s touch on my shoulder.
“Give her call.  Tell her what’s been going onand that we’re going to see her mothertomorrow morning. Maybe if you verbally share the details it’ll smooth things over.
I went back inside to get my cell phone.  After punching in her number Neil, Lyn’s husband answered.  He proceeded to tell me that Lyn had left the house and didn’t have her phone.  I told him I’d just received the email and that Lyn should call. I set the phone on the counter and glanced back at my sister standing in the threshold, her face creased with confusion.
“Is she there?” Cecily asked.
“She went out. It just so happens that she left her phone behind,” I said.
“That’s complete bullshit!” Fran yelled, shaking her head.  “Here it comes.  Here’s where it’s gonna get all fucked up.  I’m sorry Justine”- she raised a hand-“but I’ve got a real shitty feeling right now, one that needs to be nursed with a glass of wine.
If I had had any type of insight to the sequence of events that would unfold during the next few weeks I would’ve ended it all, gladly joining my husband in whatever peacefullocation he was in. From this point on until the trees began to shed their leaves I would be chained and shackled, drug through hell by a group of people who were emotionally handicapped, and corroded with selfishness.
They say when things like this happen you learn the truth about people.  What I’m aboutto unveil forced me to face a truth that I never could’ve imagined, and I have a very good imagination, one that has served me well.  My usual craft of writing is fiction romance. I’ve published fourteen novellas through four eBook companies. This is my second memoir.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Thank you, readers!

Writing and sharing my memoir about me and my husband's experience with his AML Leukemia was one of my boldest moves as a writer. The book has been out for one week. I want to thank each and every reader for their wonderful reviews, five stars and thoughtful words. Be sure to join me as my journey continues in the upcoming sequel- "What Lies Behind."
Warmest regards, JC Szot- Writing as JC Cerrigone

http://www.amazon.com/Leukemia-My-Husband-Me-Turbulent-ebook/dp/B00HJ5JA7S/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1388345215&sr=1-1&keywords=Leukemia+my+husband+and+me%3A+A+Turbulent+triangle